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I Dig Utrecht
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The free fried eggs and ham were a total Godsend this afternoon as i carted my partied-out kiester downstairs and into the thick of the day. The usual assortment of braindead Italians lingered about the place, Bart was busy fixing and painting something, Martin was quietly checking out the local paper, despite his inability to understand Dutch, rolling a smoke and hanging out quietly in the back corner. One by one, the Belgians rose for the day, looking extremely worse for wear, and there was no sign of Dave watsoever throughout the coarse of the entire afternoon. Cactus.
Resultingly, this would again be another day of limited itinerary and movement, though i did enjoy a lengthly walk with Maiike around the canal-lined bike tracks of Utrecht, through parks, gardens, and other leavy, idyllic surrounds. The Dutch certainly have no shortage of places to get away from it all, though the hustle and bustle they have to deal with is barely comparable to other Western countries. There is always a thick smattering of green areas for everyone to hang out and chill in, and even more impressively, parks with in-built metal recliners for people to bake themselves. Again, another little thing that the Dutch have scored points on. The afternoon barely stood a chance due to our late rising, and before we could say 'wheres the bloody afternoon gone', evening appeared to be on the doorstep.
With the usual assortment of 'beautiful people' partying next door to the hostel, and Bart crashing the party with his usual offering of a plate of fried imitation 'meatballs' from Evelyn's freezer, we sat around on the balcony bearing down on the bash and drank some beers, chilled out, chatted with Martin and got talking to a new face, young Angus the Scot. Suckers for punishment, Maiike, Styen, Angus and myself traipsed once again back into town in order to check out the 'Tivoli', the place we piked on last night due to its excessive lineup. With no line, and no real signs of any life, we made it in to an enormous interior hall, sparsely occupied by a handful of locals and randoms, giving off the impression we'd just crashed an early 90's Dutch high school deb ball. Beer was again the savior, and we boogied briefly before giving Tivoli the arse and heading on back to the hostel. The night has elapsed with speedinees, and despite a brief altercation with a shrubbery on the way back home, we headed back to hostel town, chilled out briefly on the balcony, and again, bleary eyed, hit the hay for another fine night.
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